Archon
by Distant Storm
Summary: They stick together because they all come from a broken home, because they know there has to be more than this. Their stories may be different, but the suffering feels the same. Rated for language, violence, mentions of drugs and abuse. A series of shorts with Takao, Kai, Hiromi focus. KaiHil in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.

Author's notes: Just taking a break from LITD. I promise, I have the next chapter done, I'm going to be working on the one after that. These one-shots are going to explore the relations between Kai, Takao, and Hiromi. They won't be long, but they will progress and there'll KaiHil by the end. A lot of the focus will be angsty and on how they come from different but equally broken familial situations.

1. Bad Boy

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_Takao:_

_He wasn't sure when she became their mother – and he called her that because he really couldn't figure out another word for the vacancy she managed to fulfill without missing a beat in any of the other roles she filled in their lives – but he figured she was probably looking for her place in their broken family just like everyone else. He was glad for it, that much he knew_.

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Takao went through a darker phase around their first year in high school, he was never the bad boy, so he just _had_ to try it. He dappled in drinking, pot, and pointless fights with boys in their year with some rather shady activities with ladies on the side. So when the boy came home with a different girl every night and shuffled them out either well past respectable hours or just before when he himself personally rose at dawn, he had planned to do something about it. However, he stopped himself, knowing that Kinomiya had to learn for himself, that something would give and give quickly. If his grandfather knew what was going on, he was keeping it to himself. If his brother would stick around for more than whatever limelight he could soak up, he would probably beat the sense into him. Better his blood than his 'best friend' with an even darker history.

None of this came into fruition, however, because Hiromi had beaten everyone to the punch. She had obviously known what had been going on from the start, he realized, when she woke him up just an hour after he'd fallen asleep one night in toward the end of winter. He had always suspected that she would be so enraged that she'd fly right off the handle and shriek until everyone in their very strange living situation was aware of what Takao was up to in the wee hours of the morning.

To say that he was wrong wasn't the correct way to put it. She was the kind of white hot angry that a person gets when they're so worried they can't let things continue without intervention. The kind of angry that a person gets about the people they cherish. He knew the rage would eventually wash over her like the tide coming in, but that was probably after Takao was out of whatever crazy situation he had gotten into that night.

She steered them down some back alley near the school without saying more than a syllable or two, and Kai realized upon arrival that this must have been the place he hung out when he said he was staying with a friend, and came into school looking like he'd been sitting in a dumpster all night. It was damp and dark in the midnight hour, illuminated by a garbage can fire and the dark muttering of losers. They overheard Kinomiya's drawling voice slurred further by his new favorite poisons, and Hiromi didn't wait for Kai to come up with a plan before she marched right into the lion's den. When he moved to follow her into the light, she held up a finger behind her back that said to wait. While he didn't like taking orders, he couldn't help but wonder what her brilliant idea was.

Takao's new group of friends immediately eyed her like a piece of meat. Some whistled, and Kai could feel his gloved fists tightening. Takao, though stoned, looked revolted. Truly taking in her appearance, Kai could understand why.

She wore a pair of ripped jeans that looked considerably less worn from behind, and a hoodie that definitely had come from either his or Takao's closet. Either way, it looked ratty and made her look sickly pale in the garbage light. Pulling out a lighter and a pack of cheap pack of cigarettes – _where the hell had she gotten those? _- and took a rather confident looking drag of one. She didn't even acknowledge her friend and teammate except to reach down at his feet and take hold of the cheap sake bottle to his left. She removed the smoke from her mouth with a calculated puff and replaced it with a longer than necessary swig of the wine.

"Takao-kun, do you have any green?"

One of the men to his left snickered and produced a bong with murky water, and handed it to him. "For your girlfriend," He mentioned casually, motioning to her.

"Like fuck she's his girlfriend," A badly dyed blonde girl proclaimed, grabbing onto his arm. "Ta-kun," she cooed affectionately with a smile laced with meth-destroyed teeth, "Is with me."

Hiromi puffed smoke in her face. "Yeah, yeah. We're all Takao's girlfriends," She replied nonchalantly, reaching for the bong in his hands. "The only difference between me and you is that I don't care about all the others," She finished her smoke and threw it to the ground, smashing it with the heel of one of her oldest pairs of sneakers. "Kinomiya, hand it over."

Kai had to hand it to her. She took another big gulp of sake and set it on the ground, punctuating it with a large belch. Meanwhile, Takao looked utterly conflicted. He looked at the paraphinalia in his hands, then at the faces watching him intently from the darkness of the alley. Finally, his eyes rested on Hiromi, who obviously wasn't joking. Curiosity got the best of him, and he handed her the bong.

He almost stepped in at that point, wondering if this was actually a plan or if he was going to have to kick ass and then drag two people home tonight. Instead, he chose to trust her, knowing that she was way too straight laced for what she was doing. Doubt crept into his mind – how did she manage to drink and smoke without gagging and coughing? - but he kept his thoughts at bay. Better to be the ace in the hole, he reasoned.

Halfway through her first toke – she had barely touched the disgusting looking piece of equipment to her lips – Takao nearly screamed, ripping the bong out of her reach, knocking over the bottle of sake in the process. The girl hanging all over him hollered, trying to no avail to save even a drop. Hiromi looked surprised, then incredibly pissed off.

"_What the hell_ was that for, Kinomiya?"

"Ehh?"

Kai was taken aback. Takao looked as though she'd hit him in his manly parts. Sure, Hiromi-chan could be grouchy or yell, but she'd never said more than the word crap, and she certainly did not appreciate anyone around her using cuss words. Takao's surprised turned into an equal anger.

"That's enough," He shouted, trying to make up for his previous fumble. "We're out of here." He grabbed her by the tattered elbow of her hoodie. "You freaking know better, Romi," He growled at her as he steered her away from the group.

"Takao-kun, where are you going?"

Takao didn't bother answering her. Instead, he pulled a browish-green colored bag out of his pocket and tossed it to her. "Here. To make up for your sake," With that, he never looked back again.

It wasn't until they turned the corner towards home that the blunette stopped her, glaring daggers at her. "Are you stupid? You know better than to do that stuff!"

She pulled out of his grasp with an aggravated grunt and began marching towards home. Starting after her, Takao was startled by two very strong hands gripping his shoulders painfully.

"Yeah, you little bastard, we thought you did too."

As Kai brushed past him and held Hiromi's hair back while she vomited into a very well placed trash can, Takao vowed he'd never try to be the bad boy again.


	2. Chapter 2

Court of Law

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_Kai:_

_There wasn't a moment in that courtroom when he hadn't had them in his sights. _

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He would look to the judge seated on his right, and Takao would be in the far left of his peripheral vision. He would look to his grandfather's lawyer to his left, and Hiromi was centered in his viewing plane. Never would he gaze at his grandfather. To see that smug bastard look at him with a condescending smirk – _You really think you'll be free of me, Kai?_ - would be worse than enduring the abbey again.

The notion of putting granddaddy dearest away was excellent in theory, but in execution, it was a slow, painstaking, emotionally re-scarring reality that Kai had to handle. Sometimes, he would feel the beatings, the flash-bang of the whippings, and the screams of the lost souls that were never seen again. Other times, he'd be in the middle of recalling some horror he'd suffered to the court and he'd feel three feet small again, and his father would be 'leaving' and there was _blood_. _Somuchblood. _He could remember the things he was told to forget.

Again, this was all done with good intentions, but it wasn't something he wanted his teammates to see. He could handle any situation to them, and to see him stutter and stumble and not have his shit together wasn't a reality they could accept. Mizuhara thought he was a god, and Kon was respectful enough not to pity him while he was actually present. That didn't mean they weren't deeply troubled over things. Kyouju would always demand a full report when they would get back as he would hang back with Daichi – not that the two of them really made him feel better being there anyway – and in the dark, Kai would lay in his bed and listen to them talk about the atrocities that no human should have to suffer much less rehash to some douchebag lawyer who was looking to make him suffer almost as much as the man he represented did.

These trials would go on from early morning until late at night with a few recesses for the jury to process and eat meals. From there, he would go home and barely sleep an hour or two, then get up and do it again. It was becoming obvious that he was emotionally and physically stressed to the limit. Spending as much time as he had in close quarters with his personal Satan, listening to the man pretend as though he had done nothing wrong, Kai was going to lose his mind. He was edgy, jumpy, he didn't want to be too far from a person he knew – knew well – and he felt like he was going to end up in a psych wing at the local hospital if things didn't wrap up soon.

After almost two weeks of torture, proceedings were wrapped up, and deliberations would begin. It was already anticipated that things would take a while, and once the doors opened and he was dismissed with the BBA's lawyers and Stanley Dickenson hot on his heels, he escaped into the men's room just outside the doors. He heard Stanley try to bar others from coming in after him, but he just couldn't stop Takao.

Smirking to himself and feeling more like himself than he had in weeks, Kai splashed water on his face. He'd been seeking closeness, but the desire not to speak about the trial had won out over the desire to be near his friends.

Kinomiya still wasn't wearing his trademark hat, as it hadn't been allowed in the courtroom, so he ran his hands through his blue locks almost nervously before letting a smile ring out across his face. Kai glanced over at him, realizing after all this time that smiles might actually be contagious, he tested a weary smirk. Takao looked even more thrilled, if it was possible.

"You fried his ass," He said at first, pumping his fist in the air. "And if you hadn't, me and 'Romi were brainstorming ways to off him."

The door screeches and she cascades into the small washroom without sound – she'd removed her heels and braved the dingy tiles in just pantyhose, the uncomfortable shoes in her hands. They'd been on since early that day, and it was now after dark. "Baka no Takao! You aren't supposed to say that kind of stuff." Her cheeks were flushed like she'd been ashamed to have been caught thinking that way, but her eyes said she had deadly intent if things went wrong. Her eyes glinted brightly of amber and ruby, happy to see him, and Kai blinked before settling his attention back on his greatest rival and self appointed best friend.

Takao rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I don't care, Romi, that asshole better get what's coming to him. Fair is fair."

Scoffing, Kai turned back to the mirror feeling naked without his scarf. "Right. You're really a baka if you think that."

Kicking the ground, Takao shrugged. "Guess I can agree to that." He looked back at the team captain. "He's still going to get it. Not even his money can save him this time." He paused, looking for backup. "Right Romi?"

"Right." A crisp nod punctuated her word.

"Anyway, 'Romi-chan, what're you doing in the men's washroom? Didn't you see the sign?"

Stuffing her empty hand in her sweater pocket, she did her best not to blush. "I just wanted to check on Kai," She ground out, cheeks darkening again.

If she had followed through and made eye contact, she might have seen his dark eyes soften at her words, but she was too busy glaring at Takao, who gave her a smirk, trying to see more than she herself was ready to see. Whoever said he was dumb hadn't quite realized he was just annoying enough to learn the things he wasn't supposed to know instead of the things he NEEDED to know.

"Anyway," Takao continued, looking away from Hiromi's lethal glare, "I know for a fact that he isn't going to get away with it."

Kai didn't look convinced, and his hands shook as he contemplated the opposite. "And if he does?"

Sad smiles were exchanged by his friends, and Takao embraced him tightly. After a moment of shock – and a flinch that Takao was not thrilled about – his older friend relaxed into his hold and even wrapped his own arms around Takao's back. Men weren't supposed to cry, Hitoshi had always told him, but as Kai's form shook for a few moments against his will, Takao remembered that Hitoshi didn't know shit anyway, and gripped tighter as tears of his own – tears of sadness for his friend's stolen childhood and suffering – ran treacherously down his face.

Standing back a few paces, Hiromi's hand went to her heart, feeling their pain so vividly. Swallowing back tears, she spoke more softly. "Then we keep going."

Kai's head bolted upward, tears escaping as he blinked. "What?"

"We keep going." She held out her arms, and both boys leaned against her for a moment. "Come what may, we keep going."

A muffled knock broke the moment, and Hiromi made out Stanley's voice asking if everything was okay, that he could only keep others from the public washroom for so long. She stepped back from the boys and glanced at the door. "Take your time," She whispered to them both. "He's going to pay, Kai. Don't you worry about that."

When the judge read the jury's verdict, he made eye contact with the monster that tortured him for his entire life and smiled proudly as Takao tackled him with a hug that showed this meant far more than any one of his accomplishments up until that date.


	3. Chapter 3

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_Hiromi:_

_She knew that he knew her darkest secret. She knew he wouldn't tell. Couldn't, actually. If he did, certainly nothing would be done about it anyway. She'd end up telling a story, and he'd force himself to pretend to believe it if only to take the stress off her shoulders._

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He wasn't a good liar at best. He wore his emotions on his sleeve; Sometimes, that made his friendship with her difficult. At first, he believed that she wanted him to tell someone, if he told someone what was going on he believed that they'd stop it. He also knew that he had to have physical evidence to back them up. He'd never been able to confront her about it, because she was either very good at hiding things, or it didn't happen very often.

When she brought him over to her house for the first time, he suddenly understood why she didn't bother. Days spent at her house were far and few in-between, but they explained why her parents didn't mind that she more or less lived at his house.

He wasn't sure what to think of her mother.

For starters, her mother had been so soft spoken and polite, but so overly warm and welcoming that it almost appeared forced. He didn't doubt that she was a kind woman, but she just looked so damn frightened of everything up to and including her own shadow that he could barely get through pleasantries without her eyes darting around every which way. Hiromi was embarrassed by it, dragging him out of their small kitchen and down the hallway to her bedroom.

It was lined with family photographs, from the time of her birth up until the last school year. Her class picture from this year, he knew without at doubt, sat on the small dresser in his guest room that had become more of her home than this small apartment that she didn't receive mail at. He had stopped at the wedding picture of her parents, however. It showed her mother looking so calm and happy and her father dressed in blue.

Their visit to her place ended in near disaster, as both of them had fell asleep on her bed, school books between them and soft j-pop filling the space between their even breathing. Hiromi's mother, whom he learned was named Fumiko, had rushed in, waking them abruptly. Her deep honey brown eyes held a deep pleading as she rushed Takao out the door. Hiromi, sensing the way the evening would be going from her mother's seemingly ridiculous behavior, hugged her tightly as she ushered him out their door and directed him toward the a staircase instead of the elevator she had brought him up in.

She asked him to pause before they descended down the staircase. Leaning against the popcorn-textured wall, she waited for the door to creak open and close. It did, and Hiromi waited for a second longer for the voices to begin.

"Where is she?" Came a demanding rough baritone.

There was a pregnant pause. "She's with her friends," Came Fumiko's soft drawl. "She came over to get a change of clothes."

There were heavy footfalls, and Hiromi pushed her ear against the rough white plaster, as if it would allow her to hear things clearer. "How long ago was she here?"

"Oh, much earlier," She heard her mother reply offhandedly.

Hiromi cringed as she heard his tone change. "Yeah? You just left the radio on her room for no good reason then?"

"Did we forget to turn off the radio?" Takao asked her quietly.

She could only nod, and push him gently, to get him moving. "Come on, we should get back," She continued gently, unable to overpower her father's raging yell about his wife being a lying bitch.

"Hiromi, why-"

The sound of skin on skin contact, followed by a crash made Takao jump, startled. "Let's just get out of here," she mumbled, obviously uncomfortable. "We shouldn't have stayed so long."

Never wanting to let anyone suffer, he grabbed her wrist when she tried to go on ahead. "Shouldn't we call the cops?"

With a sigh she willed away the beginnings of tears. "He _is_ a cop, Takao-kun. You saw the pictures in the hallway. There's nothing we can do."

"But your Oka-san," He chided. "What about her?"

"She won't leave him," Came a hardened reply. "I've asked her to."

"Why not?" Takao couldn't believe it. It didn't make sense.

"Because she refuses to give up. Sound familiar?"

Takao nearly growled, but he held it in and reluctantly followed his friend. Once they had gotten a safe distance away, he grabbed hold of her wrist again. "How long has this been going on?"

She swore he was never this serious, and it made shrugging him off even more difficult than usual. "A while, I guess." His eyes were dark, concerned by her nonchalance.

"He doesn't, y'know-"

Her eyes were so heavy with shame when she regarded him with a weary glare that he thought he was being crushed. "If you don't want the answer, don't ask the question." She held up a finger in his direction to signify that the conversation was over.

The championship beyblader had other ideas. "Is that why you wore so much makeup when we came back from China last spring?"

"How is it that you can remember how much makeup I wore, but you can't remember the quadratic equation for Sabuka-sensei's class?"

The champion sighed, putting both hands in his pockets, clenching Dragoon tightly. She didn't have to admit it, he could hear the resounding confirmation of his new found fears. "What can I do to keep you from going back there?" They continued walking toward his home in the pale moonlight.

She turned and walked backwards beside him, so that she could meet his eyes. "You can't Takao. I can't stop going home for good." Her eyes softened to their molten maroon, and she shrugged. "Besides, he goes to other towns on assignments, sometimes. It isn't that bad. There are plenty of people who have it worse."

He didn't know what to say to her about that, knowing that the people they had encountered in their sport had overcome some heavy obstacles that probably made her downplay her own situation. Instead, he settled for a promise. "Just please, 'Romi," He pleaded with her, taking her hands in his own. Her attention was grabbed as tightly as his hands were wound around hers. "Promise me you'll call someone for help. Me, Mr Dickenson, my grandpa, _someone_. I don't want him to hurt you anymore."

Locking their little fingers, they determined a failsafe.

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"_Kinomiya, it's Hiromi-chan__. I'm sorry I can't come today. I'll see you soon.__"_

_A pause._

"_Yubikiri genman, Uso tsuitara, Hari Senbon nomasu, Yubi kitta. Syaonara!"_


End file.
